


Divine Intervention

by Awriterwrites



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Afterlife, Anal Sex, Chicago (City), Coffee Shops, M/M, Power Bottom Louis, Smut, Top Harry, and sometimes spring too, building inspector harry, chicago is miserable in the winter, other planes of existence?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:32:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9290447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awriterwrites/pseuds/Awriterwrites
Summary: Harry turned on his heel and started walking toward the east side of the building.  His boot scraped across the loose gravel littering the concrete floor and cut through the quiet that had descended all around them.  He called over his shoulder, “I’m here to check the foundation.”Louis was next to him then, warm body emanating a nearly impossible heat in the biting cold.  Harry glanced at him and could see a pale pink blush cresting his high cheekbones.  “Foundation?”God, his voice was so sexy.  Coming out of that pretty pink mouth of his...tiny sharp teeth and a wet, lush tongue...Harry shook his head, trying to stay focused, on task.Louis cleared his throat next to him.  Harry realized they’d reached the far end of the building and were standing near the elevator bank — or the would be elevator bank.  It was just a shell right now.  A hollowed out promise of what was to come.  Harry shuddered as he looked down the inky black tunnel.  A sick twisting feeling rippled through his stomach.“Foundation?”   The man asked again, cutting through Harry’s chilled reverie.***Harry needs a little help moving on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS SO FUN! Thanks to @lululawrence and the oop for it GC for coming together to create this lovely challenge. 
> 
> This is part of a prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt "Foundation". To read the other amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, you can [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/foundation) and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, you can [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/2017_hl_prompt_challenge)
> 
> I owe thanks to @dimpled-halo, @nostainofaredwine and @twopoppies. Thanks for brainstorming with me, editing and your overall support. I love each of you very much xx
> 
> Also, I'd like to dedicate this work to @lieslunalove who is lovely in every way and enjoys a good bit of smut with feeling. Happy belated birthday, love.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Fucking _hell_ it was cold out.  Everything was crisp and sharp, all of the lines and edges hyper focused — straight and sharp — brittle, fragile. Harry felt like the breath was being stolen from his chest in deep, scraping scoops.   It was one of those days when the wind was whipping off the lake, moisture freezing around the eyes, skin tightening from the prickle of ice in the air.  Harry’s breath came out in steamy plumes and dissipated around him like a phantom, only the memory remained.  It was even too cold for breath to hang around.

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d been warm.  It had been days, months even.  The cold of winter was refusing to give up her hold on the city.

“Christ,” he whispered, clapping his gloved hands together to keep the chill at bay.

For March, in Chicago, it was more than unseasonably cold.  Not just chilly in with a lion, out with a lamb kind of shit — it was really fucking, downright miserably cold.  Harry’s job kept him mostly indoors during weather like this.  And, in the spring and summer, with the top down and a Hawaiian shirt on his back, wind in his hair...well, then, he didn’t mind so much — cruising around town from site to site.  

But now, early spring it felt a hell of lot like the dead of winter.  

Which is why, freezing his ass off, waiting on a builder, is kind of annoying.  Really annoying. It was supposed to be getting warm, for Christ’s sake.  But, _no_ , thanks to polar vortex or Chiberia or some shit, Harry was freezing his balls off waiting.  Mother fuck.  

Harry hopped around on one foot for a moment and then switched to the other.  The steel and half formed concrete structure loomed above him like some kind of modern architecture monster.  With the way the waning light slanted through the open spaces ten, twenty, fifty stories up was creepy.  A chill ran up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.  

This was exactly why Harry hated showing up at building sites alone. They were creepy.  People always talk about how spirits haunt old, abandoned buildings.  Harry thought it was exactly the opposite.  Breaking ground on a new building was like tearing into something sacred.  Hallowed.  He was fairly certain that there were more spirits displaced when a greedy investor decided a new hotel was needed where a public park used to be than any random old building that hid precious secrets any day.

“Well, well, well.”

Whiskey by a fire on a cold winter’s night didn’t sound as good as that voice.

Harry whirled around and was faced with a small, solid, curvy man.  His Pink Floyd t-shirt was tight and his jeans were even tighter.  He was all curves in silhouette and his body matched the sinful sound of his voice...it made Harry step forward before he was even fully aware of what he was doing.  His lips were curved in a small mischievous smile.  And he was standing, in the middle of the dusty, freezing cold shell of a building looking like a god dropped from heaven.  

“You...you’re here,” Harry said dumbly.  The man he was meeting looked hauntingly familiar.  He took another step forward, squinting in the dim light, trying to see him better.  

The man stood stock still.  “It would appear so,” he said in a silken voice that reminded Harry of beach sand slipping through his fingers.

Harry stared at the other man, noting the icy blue shadow flitting through his irises, mixed with golden amber.  They were close enough that he could see the way his eyes ran up and down his body, roving every inch of him.  “It’s... _man_.  It’s fucking freezing out here.  Where’s your — your coat?”  Which, come to think of it, Harry felt suddenly warmer.  

“Why don’t we start with why you are here, all alone?  With the sun setting low in the sky?”  The other man’s voice was lyrical, almost sing songy, yet with this _lilt_...Harry couldn’t quite place it.  It was bewitching.

“Um, well…”  Harry realized that they were standing alarmingly close.  He shuddered with the arctic wind that circled around the room, but somehow he was pretty sure that the wind wasn’t the only reason for the way his spine curled in something that felt like anticipation curdled with a small tickle of fear.  “I’m meeting _you_ here, aren’t I?”

The smaller man stared at Harry, their eyes locked for an impossibly long second.  Harry wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t look away.  He was completely transfixed.  Today was turning out to be wicked weird.  There was something about the other man that was vaguely familiar, a certain sense of deja vu coming over Harry.  He stared at him and tried to place it, figure out what it was but he kept coming up empty.

“Right.  Meeting me...”  Then, as if pulling back a curtain, the man’s face looked like it was lit from within by a thousand stars, he was bright. And sparkling.  Like champagne in a glass held up against moonlight.  He stuck his hand out and Harry met it, again without thinking, just reacting.  “Louis.  Louis Tomlinson.”

“Hi,” Harry responded immediately.  Smooth.  Right.  He stepped back, dropping Louis’ small, hot, strong hand.  His grasp was comforting, it felt right.  Like they’d shaken hands a hundred times before.  “Harry Styles.”

Louis searched his face.  “Right.  Mr. Styles, then.  What…?”

Harry turned on his heel and started walking toward the east side of the building.  His boot scraped across the loose gravel littering the concrete floor and cut through the quiet that had descended all around them.  He called over his shoulder, “I’m here to check the foundation.”

Louis was next to him then, warm body emanating a nearly impossible heat in the biting cold.  Harry glanced at him and could see a pale pink blush cresting his high cheekbones.  “Foundation?”  

God, his voice was so sexy.  Coming out of that pretty pink mouth of his...tiny sharp teeth and a wet, lush tongue...Harry shook his head, trying to stay focused, on task.

Louis cleared his throat next to him.  Harry realized they’d reached the far end of the building and were standing near the elevator bank — or the would be elevator bank.  It was just a shell right now. A hollowed out promise of what was to come.  Harry shuddered as he looked down the inky black tunnel.  A sick twisting feeling rippled through his stomach.

“Foundation?”   The man asked again, cutting through Harry’s chilled reverie.  

Harry looked down at him, delighting in his warm, homey cinnamon scent.  But he also smelled like something darker — like cloves layered with something more natural.  Sweat.   _Sex_.  It was alluring. And so goddamn familiar.  Where had he smelled that before?  

“Right.  The foundation.  Last, um fall?  I was out here and I met with...I guess your colleague?  And there were some issues with the foundation.  So, he told me he’d have them fixed and — “  Harry realized that Louis looked genuinely confused.  “You don’t know anything about this, do you?”

“No, no,” Louis spoke quickly, the earlier magnetism of his voice replaced by a skittish, rushed pitch.  “Of course I know what we’re here for,” he snapped, quickly catching himself and then smoothing a hand down Harry’s arm.  

Harry paused and tilted his head.  Strange little man.  Strange little _very hot_ man.  “Riiiight.  So.  Care to show me the changes?”  He gestured toward the obviously newer patches of concrete that spanned ten to fifteen feet along where the eastern windows would eventually be overlooking the lake.  It was breathtaking, midnight blue stretching to the horizon, meeting the muted gray sky.  

Harry turned back to Louis, expecting him to have the plans out and ready to show him the changes.  He was freezing and wanted to hightail it out of there before it got really dark out.  He had plans to meet up with some friends at a bar for the football game tonight.  This was supposed to be a quick in and out.  

Quick in and out.   _That’s what he said_ .  Harry _loved_ inappropriate teenage boy jokes.  He never quite grew out of them.  Giggling to himself, Harry turned and looked at the builder.  He was just standing there.  Standing there looking absolutely stunning in the quickly fading light, eyelashes casting shadows across his pretty face.  

“Wait a minute!  I know you!”  Harry suddenly exclaimed.  Because.  He realized why he was so enraptured, so comfortable right away with Louis.  He’d seen him before.  A couple of times, in fact.

“Hm?”  Louis stepped closer, invading Harry’s space, eyes roaming all over Harry’s face.  

It was really hard to focus with Louis that close, but Harry was determined.  “The...um...coffee shop?  On Lawrence?”  

Louis’ eyes flicked from Harry’s eyes to his mouth and back up again.  Harry felt like he were being scrutinized, studied.  “You’re so pretty, up close,” the other man said, finally.  Which.   _What_?

“Thank — thank you.”  Harry _heard_ his voice but didn’t _recognize_ his voice.  He sounded distant, hesitant.  Turned on.  And, oh crap.  

And Harry...wanted to say more, wanted to tell Louis about how he’d noticed him at the coffee shop a few times, sipping his tea in the corner, the light around him softer than snow and making him practically glow in the din of the busy shop.  Wanted to tell him about how the fiery ice of his blue, blue eyes had caught his attention that first time, when he held the door open for him.  Wanted to tell him that the handful of times that he’d seen him he had been so _intriguing_ to him.  So different.  Exotic in a way he couldn’t describe, but nostalgic at the same time.  Like a long lost relic from some otherworldly place.  But now, with the twilight pressing in all around them he couldn’t remember all of the tiny moments that were collected in the recesses of his brain.

All he could think about was the man right now, here in the present.  Standing so close to him that Harry felt like the entire world was tipping sideways and all he could focus on was blue eyes and feathery auburn hair.  And pink lips that looked like they were begging to be kissed.

Harry struggled to find words as the closeness of the other man eclipsed everything; the muted memories and the foundation, the specs and regulations...all of it died on his tongue.  Louis’ body was close enough for Harry to make out the way laugh lines were etched into his cheeks along the fine edge of his mouth.  He could see a few small freckles dotting his nose and he could smell him, up this close — he smelled like _magic_.  And Harry just wanted more, needed more.  

“You’re quite attractive for a construction person,” Louis murmured, bringing their faces closer, his arms sliding up Harry’s biceps, hot even through the layers under his thick wool coat.  “Not that there’s anything wrong with construction people.”  Louis’ voice was petal soft, breath pluming around them like a cottony soft cloud.

“‘M not...not a…”  Harry couldn’t think of anything except the other man’s lips.  His lips and the way he was so warm,  so enticingly warm.  “I’m an in — inspector.”  

An inspector.

Right.

An inspector.  “Mr. Tomlinson — “ Harry stepped backward, putting some desperately needed space between the two of them.  “I’m uh...we need to go over the foundation.  The...um…”

Louis followed him, keeping their bodies close.  Harry shook his head as a barrage of memories assaulted him.  

_Louis sipping from a paper cup under twinkly white lights._

_Louis opening the door for Harry, standing so close their arms brushed and Harry could smell the warmth of him._

_Louis waiting at the counter, staring at Harry, watching him wait for his own drink._

It was like walking through a slow motion dream, all of the snippets of memories collecting into one larger conglomeration of thought, sensation.  Harry _knew_ Louis.  Felt like he knew him better than he did.  Felt like there was a purpose to this — meeting in an empty half built construction site at dusk at the end of a long day, at the end of a long week, at the end of a longer month, year, life.

Felt like there was something _to_ this.  Something monumental.  But Harry couldn’t name it.  Couldn’t wrap his mind around it — put words to it.

Then Louis was on him, kissing him, bringing their lips together, wet and gentle at first, building to something more, something heavy and thick.  In the back of Harry’s mind — as Louis slipped his tongue inside his mouth — Harry thought about how he shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t be kissing a builder who needed his approval for this building, who needed Harry to sign a paper that would give him the go ahead to proceed.  He just needed to see the foundation.  Just a few small spots in the foundation and then he —

But there was the _something_ looming over him.  Like a word he couldn’t remember.  Or a certain thing he forgot to pick up at the store.  Or a long lost friend’s name, even though he recognized the face.  It was that sense of overwhelming deja vu but not really understanding what it was that he was remembering.  Was _supposed_ to be remembering.

Then, it all faded into a lovely backdrop of pearly pinks and blues, striped with warm, fuzzy yellow.  Louis grabbed Harry’s ass, and pulled him closer, demanding Harry’s attention with his mouth, his hands and his impossibly hot body.  And Harry forgot all about who he was and who Louis was and what it was that he was supposed to be remembering.  And, Harry, Harry just _wanted_ .  He let go and let himself want.  And _take_.  

Harry moaned into Louis’ mouth and deepened the kiss.  The other man, this _stranger_ , tasted like cigarettes and cinnamon and a bit like these apple tarts Harry’s mom used to make when he was a kid.  It was warm and comforting, but _dangerous_ , not knowing the person in his arms.  Not knowing a single thing about him except that he worked for a builder and that he went to the same coffee shop as Harry on the north side of the city.  And that he sat in the corner sometimes and read Agatha Christie and seemed to like Pink Floyd since Harry had seen him wearing the same t-shirt more than once.  

And he was really, really hot.  

Louis’ body was firm pressed to his and Harry couldn’t even begin to describe how incredibly warm he was.  Which was.  Impossible.  It was less than thirty-two degrees out.  How was Louis, _who wasn’t wearing a coat,_ so warm and how was his warmth actually creating such an inferno inside Harry’s chest?  He felt like he was burning up.  He was actually feeling warm enough that he wanted to take off his coat, the notion that he had _too many clothes_ on starting to devolve in his brain like a slow spreading stain.  

The decision was made for him when Louis pushed his hands under the shoulders of Harry’s coat and coaxed it to off his upper body, sending it cascading to the floor.  Harry tilted his head so they could kiss deeper and Louis met him halfway.  Their tongues slid against each other, slick and perfect and it felt like heaven to Harry.  He pulled at Louis’ hips so that their crotches aligned and suddenly there was too much space — too much _everything_ between them.  

“I don’t —” Harry mumbled between searing kisses.

Louis shushed him and pushed him to the ground, on top of a pile of plush blankets.  Which?  Where had _those_ come from?  Harry was about to question Louis when he looked up and saw Louis standing above him completely naked.  Completely.  Naked.  

Harry’s head was spinning and he felt like maybe he time travelled because when had _that_ happened?  And _what_ exactly was happening?  He felt drunk and spacey and more than a little confused but his cock was happy, like, really, _really_ _happy_ at the sight of Louis kneeling between his legs.  

"Let me get these for you love.”  Louis’ voice was still that same whisper soft voice that Harry thought he remembered from the coffee shop, the one that he was pretty sure could talk him into walking off a cliff right now.  It was mesmerizing.  Captivating.

 

Harry bucked his hips up as Louis slid his jeans down and off his legs, pulling off his boots and socks with them.  And it didn’t make sense.  It was so cold out.  But Harry was warm.  Unbelievably so. Burning up, an inferno raging inside of him.  He was living in a fever dream with this beautiful man crouching over him, running hot, hot hands over his writhing body...and.  Harry couldn’t stop it if he tried.

He wanted it.   _Desperately_ . 

Whatever _it_ was.

“Gonna ride you.”  Louis said decisively, looking to Harry for assent.  Harry nodded along dumbly, fisting the soft feather duvet underneath him.  He had to be dreaming. This kind of thing...didn’t happen in real life. 

Louis crawled up his body and took Harry’s face in his hands, bringing their lips together once more.  Harry felt like he had missed his mouth, his tongue.  It had been far too long since they had kissed, since he had tasted the other man.  It had only been seconds, some distant part of his mind screamed at him, but he paid it no mind, instead moaning deeply into the kiss and running greedy hands all over the other man’s curvy body.

“Prepped myself already.”  Louis whined, between kisses, arching his back as Harry’s thick, full cock slipped between his very, very wet cheeks. 

Harry groaned, gripping the other man’s hips in an effort to control the pace, control _something_ .  Because if he were being honest, Harry had actually lost control the minute he had set foot inside the building some half hour earlier.  The minute Louis greeted him.  Harry was careening out of control, completely ablaze with this man, this complete _angel_ , on top of him, ready to have sex with him.

It had to be a dream.  He was dreaming.  Certainly so.

Harry arched his back, noticing the way the other man circled his hips so that Harry’s cock head ran over his rim.  Louis’ own cock was fattened up, thick and pink, and Harry wanted to touch.  He reached out to do exactly that when Louis flattened his hands back to the floor, alongside his face.  “Stay,” he demanded.

Definitely dreaming then.

Louis grabbed a hold of Harry’s dick, making Harry squeak and then fuck up into his tight grip.  Louis smiled and bit his lip, staring deep into Harry’s eyes.  Harry felt himself getting lost in the the ethereal turquoise of Louis' own, getting pulled deeper and deeper getting pulled deeper and deeper.  The past and the present swirled together in one _constant_ :  Louis.  Louis’ face, Louis’ eyes, Louis’ voice.  It was all _Louis, Louis, Louis_.

The man himself lowered down slowly on to Harry’s erection.  Harry shuddered at the impossibly tight heat of him — the _goodness_ of it.  The amazing slick slide of it.  The way his cock widened the other man, split him open, made him growl as he took him deeper, deeper, deeper.  Harry shook while he kept his hips very still and his hands above his head.  His eyes glazed over at the way Louis just fit himself over, on top of, Harry.   Pushing himself down, down — mouth open, eyes closed tight in concentration, long pretty moans spilling from his mouth like honey from a spoon.

And Louis, Louis was _radiant_ .  His skin shone with perspiration and a glow that was bright but soft, golden but pale.  He was everything.  His hair slipped into his eyes, obscuring the penetrating ocean blue of them, but it was too late, the image was burned into Harry’s mind.  He didn’t think he’d ever forget this moment. 

Louis was fully seated and Harry was panting with the effort it took to not move.  It was excruciating, almost painful, the way Louis fit around him, gripped him.  Louis took a deep breath and slid forward, grazing his open mouth over Harry’s, sharing his breath, breathing into his very soul.

“Knew you would feel so good,” he moaned.

Harry grunted and squeezed his eyes closed.   _Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move_ , playing on constant repeat in his brain. 

“Knew it.  Couldn’t…”  Louis started to slide forward and back, squeezing around Harry’s dick on each grind backward.  Harry saw stars.  Literal shots of white exploded in the black behind his eyes.  “Couldn’t wait...wanted to…”  Louis was chanting now, random words peppered with nonsense about wanting to be with Harry, wanting to fuck him, hoping he’d get to fuck him…

It was maddening.

And so, so good. 

“You can move now,” Louis finally said, as Harry felt the other man’s dick start twitching between them.  He was fairly certain Louis was close, based on the quickening of his movements and the sounds pouring from his gorgeous mouth. 

Harry didn’t wait to be told twice.

He latched on to the side of Louis’ neck, biting down and sucking harshly.  Louis cried out and squeezed Harry deep inside.  He grabbed his hips and flipped them over so that Louis was under him, flushed and surprised at first but then, once he’d caught his breath, he was exquisite.  Writhing.  Panting.  Scratching down Harry’s back.  And Harry fucked into him wildly, without reservation, driving the other man to shouting, yelling out his name, chanting, “Fuck yes.  Fuck yes!   _God_ !” 

And then, Harry was coming.  Hot and deep and so so _good_ inside this other man, this beautiful man who gave Harry the gift of his body, the gift of release and it was so desperately good, so incredibly good.  Harry reached for Louis’ cock and pulled him off, quick and fast while he was still filling up the tight, hot heat of him and then...

Dark.

****

_Well, you done done me and you bet I felt it_

_I tried to be chill, but you're so hot that I melted_

_I fell right through the cracks_

_Now I'm trying to get back_

 

_Before the cool done run out_

_I'll be giving it my bestest_

_And nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention._

_I reckon, it's again my turn_

_To win some or learn some._

 

_But I won't hesitate_

_No more, no more._

_It cannot wait,_

_I'm yours._

 

Music.  Harry woke to music.  It was a happy sound, the music, and it made him feel soft inside, well-rested and content.  He blinked back the sleep and stretched.  He felt warm.  And safe.  And happy.  So, so happy.  Arching his back and curling his toes, he focused.  The room he was in looked suspiciously familiar.  It smelled familiar too.   Like home, but not.  

The last thing he remembered was…

Oh god.   _Louis_.

And him.

 _Fucking_.  

Holy…

Harry sat upright and noticed how soft, how pretty the golden light was streaming through the window.  The gauzy lace curtains blew in a gentle breeze and Harry smiled, despite the nagging confusion crawling through his brain.  He stumbled out of bed and felt plush carpet ooze between his toes and noticed how light, how _warm_ everything was.  The entire room was bathed in the same golden light from outside and it made Harry feel enclosed in safety, comfort.  Protected.

He padded out to the living room, marveling the entire way at how good his body felt.  He was loose, without an ache or pain anywhere and he felt light.   _Good_.

“Hi.”

Harry jumped about three feet in the air.  “What the fuck?” He yelped, scaring even himself.

 _Louis_.  

Louis was sitting, cross legged, naked, in a red armchair in the corner of a cozy, pleasant living room.  He looked peaceful, sleep mussed.  Golden.  Everything had this beautiful, warm, golden hue to it.  The other man’s face was awash in it and it was almost hard to tell where he began and the rest of the world began.  Louis _shimmered_ in the golden light.  He was lovely.  

“Where?”  Harry looked around, feeling a sense of peace wash over him as he took in his surroundings.  For the first time he realized he was naked.  It didn’t bother him.  

Louis stood up and crossed the room, bringing with him that scent that made Harry crazy with comfort and want last night.  Was it just last night?  Harry felt like he might have slept for days.  

“Come here, Harry.  Come.”  Louis gestured to the sofa, patting the fluffy cushion next to him.  

Harry joined him and hesitated before sitting down.  He was _naked_.  Louis smiled at him.  “It’s ok.  You can sit.”

Harry sat.

Louis watched Harry closely.  Harry watched Louis back.   _Christ_ .  He was just beautiful.  Breathtaking.  It was like watching a sunrise in living motion.   He was vibrant.   _Alive_.

“I’m dead.”

What?  “ _What_?”  Harry cried out incredulously, feeling his jaw open and practically hit his chin.  Louis was joking.  He had to be.

“Well, technically so are you.”  

Louis wasn’t joking.  He was...well, dead serious.  No time for jokes, Harry chastised himself.

“I don’t — “  Harry trailed off, looking around the room and then down at his practically vibrating body — he felt so alive, so good.  What was Louis talking about?  “I don’t understand.”

Louis sighed and took Harry’s hand in his.  “You...do you remember the building we were in?  Where we met?”

“Of course I do!” Harry looked away quickly, feeling flushed and embarrassed. Sheesh.  Best orgasm of his life.  How could he forget?  “It was just last night after all.”

Louis frowned and shifted so he could face Harry more fully.  “Time moves differently here, love. It was...awhile ago.”

Harry was so confused.  Louis Tomlinson was a nutter.  It was confirmed.  

“Ok.  Let’s try this…”  Louis leaned in.  “Do you remember the building — the elevator shafts?”

“Of cour — “  Harry’s mind clouded and then it hit him.  

The elevator shafts.  Dark.  Dark.  So dark.  He remembered...walking up to them, peering down inside of and...nothing.  

 _Wait_.

Not nothing.  

Falling.  Falling.

And then…

Nothing.

Fuck.  

He looked at Louis, tears already spilling.  “I’m... _what_?  What are you telling me Louis?”

Louis looked sad and ran his hands over Harry’s arms, his shoulders.  He pulled him close and hugged him, murmuring in his ear, quieting him with soft reassurances and even softer hands.  “You fell.  You died, Harry.”

Harry let himself be held.  Let himself remember, process.  For a long time he just let himself be comforted in Louis’ arms.  Louis held him and took away all the hurt.  Harry wasn’t sure how long they sat like that but when he sat back up the light was fading, the room colored in lilac and rose.   

“But — you and I?”  Harry felt overwhelmingly embarrassed.  And, oh god, was he getting _hard_?  Just remembering?  

Louis gave him a soft, private smile.  “Yeah.  That was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Nice?  Nice?  It was fucking amazing.   _Louis…_ ”  Harry whined.  He couldn’t help it.  This was a lot.  First he was dead and now Louis was describing the best sex of his life as _nice_?

“Shush!  Quiet your ego.  Don’t worry.  That wasn’t anywhere near the best you’ll have, Harry.”  Louis’ voice was teasing, lower.  Harry was definitely interested in having _this_ conversation.

“Hm?”

“Stop it!”  Louis playfully slapped Harry’s arm.  “What I’m saying is that...you can — you _will_ — have better sex here, Harry.  If you want…”

Harry wiped at his eyes.  Something still wasn’t adding up.  “But you...and I?  How?”

“You remember me from the coffee shop, right?”

Harry nodded.  

“Do you remember anything else?”  Louis asked, patiently.  He waited.  

Harry thought and finally said, “Hm.  I remember you sat in the same spot.  You um...you always wore that Pink Floyd t-shirt...what are you a super fan or something?”  Louis’ eyebrows shot up and he continued watching Harry, looking like he was patiently waiting for him to catch up.  

And then, then, Harry stopped.   _Whoah_.

Each time he saw Louis, Louis was already there.  He never saw Louis order.  In fact, Harry himself never ordered.  He just remembered seeing _Louis_ .  In his favorite coffee shop.  And well, that was _weird_ .  In fact...all Harry could really remember now was last night, Louis, the coffee shop, Louis, the elevator shaft and…. _Louis_.

“Louis?”  Harry bit his lip, concentrating really hard on just trying to _understand_.  

Louis took both of Harry’s hands in his again.  They were warm.  Soft.  Gentle.  “You didn’t want to go, Harry.”

Harry stared at him.  “I...I didn’t?”

“No...so I was, um...sent?  To like, help you?”

Oh god.  Harry was really embarrassed now.

“You?  Oh shit.  So...last night?  Oh _god_.”  Harry was a...what?  A charity case?  Hanging around earth like a difficult toddler refusing a nap?  It just gets better and better, he thought.

Louis moved quickly, climbing into Harry’s lap, pulling his hands away from his face.  “No!  No, I swear it wasn’t like that.  It was more like...I volunteered?”

“ _What_?”

Louis’ voice had been insistent, and filled with a raspy urgency.  Harry finally looked up at him and saw fervent sincerity.  “Yeah?”

“Well,” now it was Louis turn to look embarrassed.  “Well, _yeah_ , I did.  I mean.  Have you _seen_ yourself?”

Harry giggled, but then fell quiet again, the enormity of the situation settling around him like a heavy weight.  “So, like, you were sent?  How did that….does that work?”

Louis smirked and was opening his mouth to explain when Harry cut him off.  “Wait!”  He glanced around the warm, yet nondescript room.  He whispered, “Am I like... _up or down_?”

Louis ran his hands up and down Harry’s bare arms, the motion bringing gooseflesh to the surface.  Harry shivered with the intimacy of it.  “Babe,” Louis grinned, “Do you really think I would fuck you to hell?”

There was a moment’s pause and then Harry was cracking up, leaning in to Louis and dropping his forehead on his shoulder.  He was laughing, but it was riddled with tears — an emotional outpouring that held his joy and grief, spilling from his mind in thick steady waves.  What even was happening?  Harry was struggling to comprehend, but it was all made so much easier by the simplicity of Louis’ honesty, Louis’ sweet disposition...the _kindness_ in his eyes, in his gestures.  Louis laughed lightly along with him, stroking Harry’s hair, calming him down with the easy tactility of it.  Louis’ hands on him felt medicinal, like he was assuaging a pain that he was eager to let go of.

After a few long moments Harry inhaled deeply and looked at Louis with wet eyes.  “So...you were sent?  To get me?  How?”  While still confused, Harry knew that talking about it, trying to come to some _peace_ about it was important, was _essential_.

“Well, usually the person like, just sort of connects with the retriever — the person from here?  The person who’s…. _stuck_...usually feels drawn to the retriever.  But you never approached me in the coffee shop.  So...I had to get creative.”

“Oh, you just had to get creative and fuck my brains out on the floor in that building?”  Harry teased, blurting it out without even thinking about it.  But he was happy he did.  He liked seeing Louis blush.

Louis shifted so he could straddle Harry, easing more deeply into his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck and snuggling into him to hide his smile.  After a moment he sat back and said, “You know how people sometimes say that, like, you can get closer to God during sex?  Like... _orgasm_ , specifically?”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock.  Nodding his head he said, “Um...ok…”

“Right.  Well.  That’s sort of what I did with you.  It was um...a last resort.”

“Oh god!”  Harry buried his face in Louis neck, groaning, “how embarrassing!”  

Louis chuckled and then pushed away Harry gently so he could look into his face, his eyes.  “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Harry.  Since coming here.”  And god, he was so sincere.  It felt like a flower blossoming in Harry’s chest, bright and vivid, so full of life.  Of promise.

Harry couldn’t help himself.  “You said _‘coming’_ here.”  

Louis’ face crumpled and he started laughing.  “That was so bad.  Like, horrible bad.  Bad, bad, bad.”

“But you laughed.”  

Louis nodded and smiled, leaning forward to rub his nose alongside Harry’s.  Harry breathed him in, and it quieted his mind.  Like a switch or a blanket, covering him, turning it all off, tuning the rest of it out.  Tranquility.  

Harry leaned forward then, and Louis met him.  Their lips brushed together in a sweet, innocent kiss.  “So this is it then?  We just…”

“Yeah,” Louis breathed, rocking forward once so that Harry could feel how interested he was becoming in Harry and his...presence _here_ .  Wherever _here_ was.  “We just…”

Harry liked where this was going.  And, while, in the back of his mind he thought maybe he should still be shocked at what had happened to him, where he was, _what_ he was...that maybe he should ask more questions, ponder it all for a bit.  But he realized, with more than a little surprise that maybe, maybe he had just been waiting for Louis all along.  

Waiting for Louis to bring him home.

So, it was all ok.  He had time.  They had time.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors LOVE notes, comments and general feedback. Let me know what you think! Come visit me on tumblr at [click here](http://http://a-writerwrites.tumblr.com/) Thanks!


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